Nocuous
by Frost Deejn
Summary: When someone you love is in danger, it can lead you to do some very, very stupid things to save them, as Calleigh and Eric learn the hard way when a deadly drug gang takes over the crime lab.
1. Step One

Disclaimer: I wish I owned _CSI: Miami_ so I could bring Eric back, but that is not the case.

**Nocuous**

Chapter 1: Step One

When Horatio arrived at work that morning to find Eric waiting for him, he nodded slightly to himself. He'd been expecting this.

Eric turned to him, looking uncertain, a little contrite. "Hey H."

"Eric."

He looked down at his hands, toying with his visitor badge. He opened his mouth to say something, but Horatio preempted him.

"Let's talk in private."

They went inside his office and Eric took the proffered chair. After a moment, he said what he suspected Horatio already knew. "I want to come back."

Horatio waited for him to say more.

"I thought I was ready to leave, but the longer I was away...I just...I'm a CSI; that's who I am."

"You've thought about this?"

"Yeah. A lot."

"Eric," he said slowly, "I respected your reasons for leaving. Are you sure you're ready to come back?"

He looked down at the desk, then back into Horatio's eyes. "I need to come back."

"Are you sure you're coming back for the right reasons?"

Eric blinked quizzically. He'd been sure Horatio would welcome him back enthusiastically. He was becoming worried. "What are the wrong reasons?"

"You haven't been seeing Calleigh since you left, have you?"

"That's not what this is about," he said almost too quickly. "I want to come back for me. I'm a good CSI, H."

"You would have to re-certify with firearms and crime scene procedure before you can do fieldwork."

"I know. I just want the chance."

Horatio nodded and stood. "I will let you know."

* * *

"So they're sure this was arson?" Natalia wondered.

"The fire had to have an accelerant to burn as fast and hot as it did. Probably gasoline, but we'll have to run it through gas chromatography to know for sure," Calleigh answered. "The fire started in the middle of the night, no witnesses, and the firefighters didn't find any bodies."

"Could be an insurance scam."

"Well that's the thing: this house wasn't insured. It's listed as the property of a real-estate firm that no one's been able to get a hold of."

"Then what's the working theory? Pyromaniac?"

"Don't know." She sounded almost excited about the mystery. "That's what we have to figure out."

"It's going to take forever to sort through this rubble," Natalia remarked, snapping a photograph of a broken television set before moving it to get to the charred wood below.

Calleigh's phone rang. A glance at her caller ID told her it was Horatio. "Duquesne," she answered.

_"Something has come across my desk that I want to run by you."_

"What is it?"_  
_

_"Eric has requested reinstatement."_

"Well that's great. What's the problem?"

_"Calleigh, I couldn't run the lab without you, and considering your history with Eric, I wanted to make sure this wouldn't cause any problems."_

"I appreciate that you value my opinion, Horatio. And my opinion is this: Eric's a great CSI. If he's willing to come back, I say the sooner the better. We can really use him, and the lab's not the same without him."

_"Thank you. I'll see you back at the lab."  
_

Natalia watched her with interest as she put away her phone. "Eric's coming back?"

Calleigh smiled brightly. "Yeah."

They went back to work sorting through the debris.

"Looks like someone was definitely living here," Natalia said, putting scorched junk food wrappers in an evidence bag.

Calleigh started to get the feeling that not all of the damage was caused by the fire. She didn't share her suspicion with Natalia yet, not wanting to bias her analysis, but it didn't take long for Natalia to notice the same discrepancies. "Hey Calleigh, does this look like a tool mark to you?" She pointed to a gash in a small file cabinet.

Calleigh knelt down to examine it. "That looks like it was caused by a crowbar, like someone forced it open. I'm finding the same kind of evidence in the bedroom and the kitchen. Someone searched this place before burning it down."

"If only we knew what they were looking for."

"And if they found it."

* * *

As soon as the paperwork was done Eric was right back to work, lifting fingerprints from various open investigations and running them through AFIS.

Natalia entered carrying a box full of evidence bags. "So the rumor's true," she said. "Eric Delko is back at CSI."

"Yep. And just in time, it looks like. What's all this?"

"We're investigating an arson. This house was obviously ransacked before someone doused it in gasoline and burned it down. We didn't find any body, and no one knows who was living there. This is everything we could find that might possibly have fingerprints on it: food from the fridge, bottles from the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, silverware from the kitchen, stuff like that. If whoever was living there is in the system, it would be a huge lead." She set the box on the table. "Welcome back."

He laughed. "Thanks. I'll get right on it."

It was getting close to quitting time when someone knocked softly at the edge of the open door. He looked up and caught his breath. It was Calleigh. She looked tired, and the faint scent of smoke clung to her.

"Hey."

He smiled. "Hey."

"I heard you were back."

"Just lab work for now," he said. "I won't be back in the field for a few weeks, at least."

"Still..." She wasn't sure what she meant to say next. She wondered if he could hear how loud her heart was beating. When he left the lab, a part of her had been convinced she was the reason. It was hard to blame him: she nearly killed him in the shoot-out at the armory, which wasn't something a lot of relationships could survive. She'd been hoping that he would forgive her and they could put that behind them. But then he left the lab and made no effort to keep in touch with her. She'd heard from Horatio that Eric had gone to Puerto Rico. She only found out he was back in Miami when he showed up as an expert witness for a defense lawyer.

She could take a hint.

But now he was back. What did that mean? That he wanted to give her another chance, protocols be damned? Or that he'd really moved on, and the department protocols were no longer a concern?

Either way, she didn't want to seem too solicitous. "I'll see you around," she said pleasantly.

"Calleigh," Eric said suddenly. But when she turned back to him, he didn't know what to say. In spite of what he told Horatio, being able to work with her was one of the reasons he wanted to come back. But how could he tell her that? How could he tell her that he couldn't stand being away from her? A long moment passed when he could only look at her. "It's good to be back."

She smiled softly. "It's good to have you back."


	2. Take Two

Chapter 2: Take Two

She examined her reflection in the mirror on her bedroom door, turned, and went back to her closet. She tried on two more tops before choosing a different one. But then she wanted to wear her red high-heels, and they didn't go with the blouse, so she changed again, ending up in black jeans and a light pink blouse. She put her hair in a twist, then a braid, then decided to quickly curl it. She put on her darkest lipstick before deciding it didn't go with the blouse and hurrying back to her closet to put on a deep lavender one. Then she left for work, but she stopped by a shoe store to buy some new high heels. They were black, with straps winding up her ankles.

"You're late," Natalia noted as Calleigh passed her in the hall.

"I know. Traffic jam."

"Yeah, that happens. Are those new shoes?"

"No."

Natalia smirked. "Eric's in Trace. He found something interesting when he ran the prints from our arson scene through AFIS, but I'll let him fill you in."

Calleigh hurried to the trace lab, but her steps slowed as she approached it. She took a deep breath before opening the door.

"...compartments, but even then you wouldn't expect the fire to erase every trace of drug. Good morning, Miss Duquesne. You look nice today," Travers said.

Eric turned. He couldn't keep his eyes from darting to what she was wearing, but then he forced them to focus on her face. "Calleigh."

"Mr. Travers, Mr. Delko. What do we have?"

Eric cleared his throat and turned back toward the table. "The prints we got from the arson scene came back to Norman Mejia."

"Norman Mejia...the drug kingpin who died in a shoot-out with the Coast Guard last week?"

"The same. No one knew where his hideout was. I think you may have found it."

"Unfortunately someone else found it first," Calleigh said.

"The thing is," said Travers, "I found no cocaine or any other kind of drug on anything from the house. He may have been living there, but he was storing his product somewhere else."

"But that may be why the house was searched before being torched. I'm gonna go see what I can find out about Mejia's gang." She left.

"Still, if they didn't find the drugs at the house, or even if they did, why did they bother to burn it down?" Travers pondered. When Eric didn't answer, he looked up to catch him staring out the glass door. "Did you come back for the job, or the view?"

Eric closed his eyes and shook his head. "I'm sorry. I was just..."

"Gawking at your ex-girlfriend like a lovesick puppy?"

"Drugs can be hidden in a lot of places," Eric said quickly. "I'll take a second look at the stuff Cal and Natalia bagged at the crime scene."

"You seem to be taking a lot of second looks lately," Travers teased.

* * *

"According to the guys in Narcotics, Adam Randall was rumored to be Mejia's right-hand man," Detective Frank Tripp explained as he and Horatio approached the door of an upscale suburban house.

"The question is: will he talk?"

"He will if he wants to avoid a parole violation." Frank rang the doorbell. A moment later, he pounded on the door. "Adam Randall, it's MDPD!"

Getting a bad feeling, Horatio had his gun at the ready.

Frank knocked on the door harder, and nearly stumbled when it swung open. "The lock's broken."

They cautiously stepped inside. Horatio counted four locks on the door, each one with drill holes in it or bits of broken wood from the door stuck to it.

"Definitely wanted to keep someone out," said Frank.

"All the windows have bars. There are no bushes or structures in the yard to provide cover." He opened a drawer on a metal desk positioned beneath a window, revealing half a dozen guns at the ready. "Adam Randall has been taking some serious security measures."

Frank opened a door to the next room. He lowered his gun slowly. "Looks like he had good reason. Take a look."

Tied securely in a chair in the center of the room was a pale body caked with blood. Horatio pulled on gloves and checked for a pulse. "He's gone. This is Randall?"

"From what I can see of 'im," Frank replied, glancing at the mug shot of Adam Randall he'd brought along. "Drug trafficking is a dangerous world. With Mejia gone, there could be a power struggle in the gang."

"It could be a lot of things. This man...has been tortured."

"Mejia's house ransacked and his second-in-command tortured? What the hell were they looking for?"

* * *

Eric was scrupulously re-examining every item recovered from the burned house, this time processing them not for fingerprints but for traces of cocaine. So far, there was nothing. Mejia may have run the smuggling operation, but it looked like he never so much as touched the product.

He picked up a partially melted bottle of conditioner from the bathroom and carefully removed the lid. A tiny dab of the substance inside combined with the cobalt thiocyanate solution came up negative for cocaine. Just as he was about to put it aside, he paused. The bottle seemed heavier than it should have. He shook it, and felt something solid thunk softly against the plastic.

He poured the conditioner into a sieve, leaving a small plastic capsule. After photographing it and cleaning it, he carefully separated the two halves.

Inside was a flash drive.

A smile spread across his face. This was what a CSI lived for: the thrill of discovery.

He quickly sealed the flash drive in an evidence bag for delivery to the AV lab.


	3. On Three

Chapter 3: On Three

"Factoring in the low temperature at his house, time of death was at least thirty hours ago," Dr. Loman stated.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. And Adam Randall did not die quickly, either. He was tortured for hours before having his throat slit."

"That means he was killed about the same time as the fire," Calleigh mused. A scenario was playing out in her head: Randall told the people torturing him that there was something in Mejia's house. When they didn't find it there, a single phone call was all it may have taken to end his life. Not even a drug smuggler deserved that.

"Broken fingers, multiple fractured ribs, burns, high concentrations of capsaicin in his mouth and nasal cavity, and even lemon juice in dozens of paper cuts," Loman continued. "These guys got creative. I would not like to run into them in a dark alley."

Calleigh nodded. "The smuggling ring he and Norman Mejia were in is known as the _ Muerte Blanca_. They have a reputation of doing this kind of thing to cops and competition in South America and the Caribbean. They're really secretive. None of the gang members who've been caught know anything about the larger organization of the smuggling ring. That's why no one's been able to get inside."

"But now their top guy is dead. That should slow them down, at least?"

"Mejia? From what I've been able to find out, it looks like he was the top guy in Miami, and he probably reported directly to the real leader of the Muerte Blanca, but he'll be replaced with someone new in no time."

"Shame," Dr. Loman said. "I guess it's not true that there's a bright side to everything."

"Well, the cocaine Mejia was trying to smuggle into the country when he was shot won't be showing up on the street, so that's something."

As Calleigh was walking out of Autopsy, she bumped into someone who was making notes in a file while walking in.

"Sorry," she mumbled before looking up and realizing it was Eric.

They both stood in the doorway for a moment, looking at each other, frozen by their inadvertent closeness.

Eric licked his lips. "Excuse me," he said quietly.

After a moment, Calleigh smiled wryly. "What if I don't want to?" She looked at him for a few more seconds, then sidestepped him and walked away.

Eric's eyes followed her. A wide, crooked smile appeared on his lips.

"What was that about? I've never seen anyone so happy about bumping into someone before," Dr. Loman remarked.

"It's nothing," he said quickly. "It's just that...something I said to her once. Uh, do you know what Randall's stomach contents were?"

"His last meal consisted of a hamburger and beer. Not a bad choice, if you ask me. Why?"

"According to Horatio, his house was full of guns, but the attackers somehow managed to get in without a shot being fired. He could have been drugged before getting home. Could you send a sample of his stomach contents to tox?"

"Of course." Dr. Loman got a small vial to collect the sample. "So, the rumors about you and Calleigh are true?"

"Depends on what you've heard," Eric equivocated. He took the samples and left.

Dr. Loman chuckled to himself as he returned to the body.

* * *

Calleigh went to the Audio-Visual lab.

"Hey. What can I do for you?" asked the AV tech, Dave Benton.

"Have you been able to pull anything from the flash drive from the arson scene?"

"Not yet. It's pretty heavily encrypted. And the funny thing is, there seems to be at least three different levels of encryption."

"So someone really, really didn't want anyone to see whatever's on here. Can you decrypt it?"

"Oh yeah. So far I've been able to figure out that some of the data includes what look like phone numbers. It will take some time, though."

"How much time, do you think?"

"A few...days, at least."

"Well, let me know when you find anything." She began to walk away.

Benton thought of something else. "Oh, I did manage to track the serial number to the store that sold it: a computer store in Coconut Grove. I called them, and they say they sold out of that series months ago."

She turned back to him. "Can I get an address for them?"

"Sure." He pulled it up on the computer and wrote it down for her.

As Calleigh walked out of the AV Lab, she passed a young police officer she'd worked with on a couple of cases. "Hello, Officer Ellsworth," she greeted him.

"Hi. I told you to call me Freddie."

She smiled. "Can I help you find anything?"

"Uh, the nearest restroom, for starters."

"Down the hall, first right. You can't miss it."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

* * *

Horatio flipped open his ringing cell phone. "Caine."

_"It's me," _Eric said. _"Tox just confirmed that Adam Randall was drugged with some kind of barbiturate. And the last thing he ate was a hamburger with papaya, sweet pickles, and pineapple."_

"Interesting. How does that help us?"

_"It's the specialty of a bar called Cove Street, a block and a half from his house. He was probably eating with whoever drugged him."_

"Thank you, Eric. I'll check it out."

As Horatio climbed in his Hummer, he noted the delivery truck driving around the building, but there was nothing unusual about it to arouse his suspicions.

* * *

Dark afternoon storm clouds were rolling in as Calleigh drove away from the computer store. Her phone rang.

"Duquesne."

_"Are you at the lab?_" Horatio asked.

"No. I was checking out the place where Norman Mejia got the flash drive, but I didn't find out anything we didn't already know."

"_I checked with the diner where Adam Randall ate his last meal. The man who drugged him was caught on the surveillance camera. He's a police officer: Frederick Ellsworth."_

She jolted. "Freddie Ellsworth? I saw him at the lab right as I was leaving."

"_Calleigh, we need to get back there now_."

* * *

The fire alarm at the lab began blaring. Benton quickly saved his progress, tucked the flash drive into an evidence drawer, and calmly made his way toward an exit, along with most of the other people in the building.

"What do you think this is about?" Travers wondered as he and Eric put away the chemicals in the Trace lab.

"I don't know. I didn't hear about a drill being planned for today."

"So this could be the real thing?"

"Wouldn't be the first time."

Eric tried to dial Calleigh, but got a busy signal. Of course, he told himself, Calleigh would get out alright. For all he knew, she wasn't even in the lab. There was no reason to believe whatever caused the alarm happened in Firearms. He would leave the building, and then make sure she was okay.

But his steps would not obey his brain.

"Where are you going?" Travers asked.

"I just want to check on something. You go ahead."

Travers hesitated, but decided Eric was smart enough to know he was being an idiot, and he wasn't about to physically drag him out of a possibly burning building.

Within a minute, Eric was the only one left in sight. He speed-walked down the hall, but he was becoming increasingly suspicious about the alarm. There didn't seem to be any smoke in the building. What was wrong?

He turned a corner, then jumped back a step and darted behind the wall. There had been someone down the hallway. He'd only gotten a glimpse, but he was pretty sure the person was wearing a black ski mask and carrying a big gun. Had he been seen? If so, the moment he stepped back into sight, he would probably be shot at.

He braced himself, and poked his head around the corner.

Whoever had been there was gone.

Did this have to do with the Mejia case? Were they looking for the flash drive?

Changing direction, moving as stealthily as he could, Eric made his way to the AV lab. He found the flash drive in the evidence drawer, sealed it in an evidence bag which he secured in his pocket, then continued toward Firearms.

The room was empty, much to his relief, but before he could leave he heard someone coming down the hall and ducked out of sight under a desk.

"I thought I heard something."

Footsteps thumped against the floor.

"There's no one in here." It was a different voice, with a light Spanish accent.

"The door was unlocked."

"Whoever was in here when the fire alarm went off probably forgot to lock it behind him. Let's go. We have to find it and get out of here as soon as we can."

They left again, without closing the door.

Eric fumbled for his phone, but found he had no service. They must have been blocking cell phone signals. He looked out at the open door, weighing his options. Armed killers were roaming the lab, and he had no way to let anyone on the outside know what was happening.

And he probably had what they were looking for.

* * *

Horatio arrived at the crime lab a few minutes later to find a crowd in the parking lot. Tripp spotted him and hurried toward him.

"What's going on, Frank?"

"Hell if I know. The fire alarm went off in the lab, and a few minutes ago an anonymous 911 caller said there was a bomb in the building. Bomb squad's on its way. There have been a few reports of people carrying guns hanging around the building right before the alarm went off."

Horatio tried to dial the front desk.

"Tried that. Something's interfering with the phones," Tripp told him.

Calleigh's Hummer pulled up. She climbed out, staring at the building. "I can't reach Eric," she stated.

"The phones ain't working," Tripp repeated for her. "But it looks like everyone got out alright."

"Have you seen Eric?" she asked him pointedly.

Tripp thought about it, then shook his head.

Calleigh left quickly to search the crowd. She returned a few minutes later to find Horatio talking to the bomb squad.

"There are some suspicious vehicles parked around the building," Horatio updated her. "No one knows what's going on inside."

"Travers said Eric wanted to check on something when everyone else was evacuating the building," Calleigh said, the distant look in her eyes the only indication of how worried she was. "No one's seen him since."

Horatio's phone started ringing.

"Looks like we got cell service back," Tripp said_._

"Who is it?" Calleigh asked, hoping it would be Eric.

Horatio checked the caller ID. "It's coming from my office." He answered it, putting it on speaker. "Caine."_  
_

_"Just the man I wanted," _said the rather irritated voice._  
_

"Who am I speaking to?" Horatio inquired.

Calleigh sent a quick text message to Eric. _Where are you?_

The voice on the phone continued. "_You don't need to know my name. We know you found a flash drive at Norman Mejia's house. Where is it_?"

"If you won't even tell me your name," Horatio said, "Why should I tell you anything?"

_"I thought you might ask that. See that white van parked on the street near the northeast corner of your lab?"_

Horatio looked up. A second later, the van burst into flames. The people nearing the blast were knocked to the ground. A few of the bomb squad personnel and some paramedics on the seen rushed toward the explosion.

_"Did that get your attention? There are more bombs around and in the building, and a few set underneath cars in the parking lot. We could destroy the evidence in every case you're processing, and maybe even kill some innocent people, or you could give us something that rightfully belongs to us. Your choice."_

"I would like to help you, but we didn't find any flash drive at the arson scene you speak of. It may have been destroyed in the fire," Horatio replied calmly.

"_I know that's a lie. But speaking of destroying it in the fire, if we can't have it we're going to make sure no one else does, even if it means burning your precious crime lab to the ground. I'll give you a few minutes to think about it._" He hung up.

"The way he talks," Tripp said, "he almost sounds familiar."

"He is," Calleigh said. "I recognize the voice. I talked to him earlier today. That's Freddie Ellsworth."

Tripp flinched. "The new guy in Narcotics? You think he's working for Mejia's gang?"

"We know he is," Horatio replied. "He was involved in the murder of Adam Randall."

Calleigh's phone beeped. She opened it to check the message, from Eric's number. _Autopsy. Tried to sneak out. Doors R guarded._

She sent a reply. _RU safe?_

_4 now.  
_

"What could possibly be on that disk to make them take a risk like this?" Tripp asked.

"I don't know, but I don't think the Muerte Blanca makes threats they can't fulfill," Horatio said. "This was a carefully planned, coordinated attack. I'm going to tell the bomb squad what we've learned. I want Narcotics in on this too, Frank."

"Gotcha. I'll make the call."

When Tripp walked away, Horatio turned to Calleigh. She looked back at him. "Eric's in there," she whispered.

"How is he?"

"Alive. Unless someone else is sending texts with his phone."

Horatio looked at the lab. "Until we know more about the situation, it's too dangerous for anyone to go inside."

"I have to," she stated.

"I can't let you do that."

She hesitated for a long moment. "You won't stop me," she informed him matter-of-factly.

His eyes dropped. "Calleigh," he said, "I can't afford to lose you both."

"You won't. I promise I'll do everything in my power to make sure Eric gets out alive."

Horatio thought for a moment. "And I'll do everything in my power," he said as he put on his sunglasses, "to make sure you both do."


	4. Forever

Chapter 4: Forever

Every minute or two, Eric heard people passing in the hallway. They occasionally spoke, usually in English but sometimes in Spanish. From the bits and pieces of conversation he could hear clearly, it sounded like they were still looking for the flash drive, becoming increasingly desperate, and expanding their search to every corner of the building they could think of where something so small could be hidden. It was only a matter of time before they would search autopsy. Eric had to get out, but he wasn't sure how. Even if he had a gun, which he didn't, there were too many of them.

He clutched his cell phone to him. He'd put it on silent to keep it from revealing his presence, and after getting the text from Calleigh he'd been checking frequently. But there had been nothing since she asked if he was safe. He was getting worried.

* * *

Calleigh checked her phone again. Whatever they were using to block cell signals had been turned back on after Ellsworth hung up on Horatio. She could only hope Eric was still alive.

She had been careful to approach the building without being seen. There was a side door, up a fire escape, that she and Horatio had keys to. That's where she headed. The door didn't have a window near it, so even if someone was guarding it they wouldn't see her coming.

At the door, she pulled out her gun, turned the key slowly, and opened the door quickly, moving with it to keep out of the line of sight of anyone inside.

Bullets whizzed past her. It sounded like a semi-automatic riffle. She waited for only a second before stepping forward, firing five rounds without even seeing her assailant--only guessing his location from the direction of the bullets.

A large man dressed entirely in black, complete with a ski mask, clutched at his neck. His gun clattered to the ground. Blood began seeping through his fingers. Calleigh approached him with her gun fixed on him. Within seconds he lost consciousness. She stooped to check his pulse in his wrist. There were only a few, increasingly weak heartbeats before it stopped.

Two more dark-clad figures appeared at the end of the hallway. They'd heard the gunfire.

Calleigh hit the floor as more bullets started flying down the corridor. She took cover behind the large body of the man she'd just killed, then took his gun to fire back. Her aim was good. One man caught a bullet in the shoulder as he dove for cover around the corner. The other caught several bullets in the torso and fell to the ground.

Ignoring the danger, she dropped the riffle, drew her own handgun again, and ran down the hall. She could hear the injured man calling for back-up.

Instead of rounding the corner, Calleigh took a side door she knew would lead to a storage room with another door opening near the elevator. Of course, strategically it would be safer to take the stairs, since in the elevator she would be trapped, but she calculated the people who would now be looking for her would figure she'd know that, and so assume she'd take the stairs, and might not even be looking at the elevator.

The gamble paid off. She made it to the elevator without encountering any more of the gang, and she took it to the ground floor. Eric had said he was in Autopsy. She didn't know if he was still there, but it was all she had to go on.

She reached Autopsy and entered it carefully, gun drawn. The room seemed to be empty.

"Eric?" she called softly.

He emerged from behind a cabinet. "Calleigh."

"Eric!" A second later her arms were around him.

He was torn between being relieved to see her and terrified that she was in danger. As he held her, the questions of "why are you here?" "how did you get in?", and "what are you doing here?" competed to be spoken. But he found he couldn't say anything for a moment. "Are you okay?" he finally asked as he took a step back so he could look at her.

She nodded. "Yeah."

"I heard guns..."

"I wasn't hit. I think I killed two and injured one more of them. I don't know how many there are."

"Judging by how many I've heard go past here, there have to be at least twenty."

She glanced at the door nervously.

Realizing how exposed they were, Eric pulled her back to his hiding place, crouched beneath a table with a cabinet between them and the door.

"They're looking for the flash drive you found in the debris from Norman Mejia's house," Calleigh whispered. "Ellsworth said he'd burn the lab down if he doesn't find it."

"Who's Ellsworth?" Eric asked.

"Freddie Ellsworth. He's part of the gang. I don't know if he's behind this, but he was involved in Randall's murder. He's a cop."

Eric rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath. "So they had an inside man. Well, they won't find the flash drive if they don't find us." He took the evidence bag from his pocket and showed it to her.

"Is that it?"

"I grabbed it as soon as I suspected what they were looking for."

Calleigh stared at him. She was beginning to fear that by trying to save Eric she'd instead put him in more danger. "Have they seen you?" she asked.

"No."

She bit her lip, averted her eyes, nodded slowly. "They know I'm here. We can't let them steal this evidence. What's on that drive could potentially bring down the whole gang, saving who knows how many lives." She paused for a second. "Eric, you have to get that out of here."

Something about her words sent a chill down his spine. "You mean 'we'. We have to get this out of here."

"Eric," she said, "they've seen me. They're looking for me. We have to split up." Her voice dropped a notch. "I can draw them away, give you a clean escape route."

His eyes widened as her meaning sunk in. "Calleigh, that's a suicide mission."

"It will get you and the flash drive out of here. If we stay here, they'll find us." She shook her head slowly, still trying to think of a better idea, but nothing presented itself.

"No," he said. "You take the flash drive and give me your gun, and I'll draw them off."

She responded to that suggestion with a pained smile. "Even if I were willing to do that, which I'm _not_, that would just let them know there are two of us. Beside, I'm a better shot than you are."

Eric closed his eyes and shook his head, praying this was a nightmare and he would wake up any moment. "I can't let you do that. I..." He bit his lip. "I can't lose you."

Her hand went to his cheek. Her eyes were full of sympathy and apology and sadness. "I promised Horatio that I'd get you out alive. And I promised myself, a long time ago, that I'd always protect you." She tried to smile. "Don't make me a liar, okay?"

He closed his eyes, and two tears spilled down his cheeks. Then he felt her lips on his in a soft, firm, steady kiss. And then she left, quickly and surprisingly quietly. He felt the rush of air as she slipped past him, but didn't hear her footsteps. She was gone when he opened his eyes.

* * *

It hadn't taken long for them to spot Calleigh as she made her way toward the exit. If the way had been clear, she would have gone back for Eric and they both would have made a getaway, but she knew how unlikely that would be. She was alert enough to spot the gunmen and duck before they opened fire. She fired off two rounds, rolled out of their line of sight behind the corner, pressed herself flat against the wall, and quickly replaced her clip.

One of the men called someone on a walkie-talkie to report that they'd found her. She could hear the footsteps of the other one come toward her.

Taking a chance, she dove from her hiding place, fired three shots that got the closest of the gunmen in the chest, then sprinted down the hall as the other chased behind her. She opened a door that led to a supply closet, then hit the floor as the gunman opened fire on the wall.

The firing stopped. She stilled her breath, listening. She knew he was waiting to hear her move, so he would know where she was.

She didn't have time for that.

Leaping to the door, she fired off two shots. The first went wide, but the second caught her target in the arm. He grunted, but managed to aim his gun.

Calleigh's instincts told her the next shot had to be a kill shot, or she was dead. Fortunately it was close range. She took it, getting him in the head as a spray of gunfire ricocheted off the floor in front of her.

Her eyes closed, and she slid to the floor, breathing hard. It took her a moment to feel the pain, and the blood. Pieces of shrapnel had hit her leg.

"Duquesne!" someone yelled from down the hall.

She was instantly on her feet again, back against the wall.

It was Ellsworth, walking toward her with half a dozen masked men behind him. She pointed her gun at him.

"Come on. I know you're too smart to take that shot." He gestured passed her, to where two more gunmen were approaching. "You've already killed four of my people, so I am not in a very good mood right now. And anyway, I'm pretty sure you're out of bullets."

"You willing to bet your life on it?" Calleigh spat.

"Yeah, as a matter of fact, I am. Go ahead and pull that trigger. If I'm wrong, we're both dead, and if I'm right, only you're dead."

She didn't take the shot, because he was right: she didn't have one.

Ellsworth scoffed. "Get her gun."

One of the gangsters grabbed Calleigh's gun, a couple more grabbed her arms. Ellsworth turned her back to her and started walking away. The others followed him.

"Where are we going?" Calleigh asked.

"Your computer lab. You're going to help us find Mejia's files."

* * *

"SWAT is in place around the building," Lieutenant Dinh reported. "They're just waiting for the okay to go in."

"The bomb squad has already discovered two devices in the parking lot," Horatio said. "The doors may be rigged. And two of my people may still be inside the building. I want to give the bomb squad more time to get an idea of what we could be dealing with. This gang is dangerous, and I don't think they came in here without an escape plan."

Dinh frowned. "Okay. We'll wait for the bomb squad to finish surveying the perimeter. But the longer we wait, the worse the situation is likely to get."

Tripp approached them, a large umbrella shielding him from the rain. "Horatio, we've been getting reports of gunshots from inside the building.

Dinh looked at Horatio. "If your people were in there, I think we have to assume they're dead."

Horatio wasn't ready to accept that possibility, but rationally he had to agree. "Lieutenant Dinh, how quickly can you outfit your team with night vision equipment?"

"Quickly. Why? What's your idea?"

* * *

Abandoning Calleigh had never entered Eric's mind as a legitimate option. He didn't care that he was unarmed, or that lives could depend on making sure the gang didn't get what they were looking for, or that Calleigh had told him to go. He'd followed her, keeping out of sight. He hid behind an unlocked door when Ellsworth showed up with reinforcements. He heard them take Calleigh.

Eric was determined to do whatever he could to save her, but first he needed to hide the flash drive, and he needed a plan.

The hiding place had to be somewhere the gang wouldn't think to look, but where someone else could find it. He thought about putting it in the desk in Horatio's office--the gang had probably already searched there, and wouldn't look again. But that was on the other side of the building, and it was too likely he'd be caught on his way there. He looked around the room he was in: it was a restroom. From the cases he'd worked or heard about, he knew things could be hidden in the cistern of a toilet, above the ceiling tiles, or even behind the cover of an outlet. But those places were either too obvious, or places where it would never be found if he didn't survive to tell anyone where to look. He glanced at the sink, at the paper towel dispenser, at the soap dispenser. Then he almost smiled.

Suddenly thankful for the months he'd worked as a janitor as a summer job in high school, he reached underneath the soap dispenser and found the button that released the cover. He placed the evidence bag behind the box of soap, then snapped the cover back into place. No one would think to look there, but the next time a janitor had to refill the soap, they would find the evidence bag, and hopefully get it to Horatio.

Now he just needed to think of a way to save Calleigh.


	5. High Five

Chapter 5: High Five

Calleigh glared at her captors. Once they got her to the AV lab, they frisked her, then handcuffed her with her arms crossed painfully behind the backrest of the chair, the chain threaded under the bar connecting the backrest to the seat. After restraining her, everyone but Ellsworth and two other men had left to continue the search.

The two men had removed their masks, and stood by the door. One of them was tall, with black hair and a short beard. The other was average height with dark red hair and a crooked nose. Both were broad-shouldered and muscular, and watched her scornfully.

"So," Ellsworth said, stooping in front of her, "where is the flash drive?"

"I don't even know what you're talking about."

"Don't play dumb with me, Duquesne. Why would you have broken in here unless Horatio sent you for the flash drive? What else could have possibly been worth taking that risk?"

She didn't answer him. She couldn't think of any alternate explanation for being there, besides the truth.

"Adam Randall wouldn't tell me where it was, either," Ellsworth said. "You saw what I did to him, right?"

"I know what happened to him," Calleigh confirmed.

"Just tell me where the flash drive is, and I promise I'll let you live. If you don't, I'll kill you, but not before making you wish you were dead."

"Even if I knew where it was, I'd never tell you."

He smiled. "Do you have any idea what's in those files?"

Calleigh examining him, trying to decide what answer would make him less likely to kill her. If she made him think they'd decrypted the flash drive, he could decide she knew too much and kill her. But it was also possible he had no idea what was on it, and if he thought she knew he would keep her alive to try to find out as much as he could from her. She didn't know which was more likely, so she decided to compromise. "If I had to guess, I'd say names, addresses, and phone numbers of people involved in the Muerte Blanca drug smuggling ring. Am I right?"

He stared at her as though trying to decide whether to kill her. "We've searched this room from top to bottom, and there's no sign of it. It has to still be in this building, or you wouldn't be here. So, either Curtis here will break your fingers, one by one, or you'll tell me where it is."

"I've already told you I don't know where it is."

"And I believe I've made it clear that I don't believe you." He nodded to the redhead, who moved slowly toward Calleigh.

She clenched her fists. Her arms were sore and stiff, and her breathing was getting tight, but she was careful not to show signs of discomfort. The large man circled around behind her. He grasped her wrist and pried up the pinkie finger of her left hand.

"Last chance, Calleigh," Ellsworth said.

"Torture me all you want. I can't tell you what I don't know."

"Do it."

Curtis twisted the finger back. Calleigh heard her bone snap like a twig. She bit her lip, but didn't make a sound. Curtis kept twisting the finger until Ellsworth held up his hand. He was watching Calleigh's expression closely.

"I know you're tough. This is really not the right time to prove that. We could go through each of your fingers, and then get started on you toes, your teeth, your eyes, anything else you're attached to. It's just going to get worse and worse until you die. Or you can stop it right now. Where...is...the flash drive?"

"If I knew I would tell you, but I don't," she said.

Ellsworth laughed. "Don't insult my intelligence. You might think you can withstand torture--and who knows, maybe you can. But you're a smart woman, and I'm sure you know what they don't show in the movies: the psychological and physical effects of torture can last for the rest of your life. Even if you survive and somehow escape, just imagine how long it will take for your cuts and burns and broken bones to heal. You could require operations, stitches, you may never be able to pull the trigger of a gun again. Chronic pain for the rest of your life. Permanent disfigurement. I'd hate to see what a knife or a cigarette could do to that pretty face of yours. And just imagine, waking up with nightmares of what we do to you every night for the rest of your life."

"Is boring me supposed to be part of the torture?" she inquired with faux politeness in her soft Southern accent.

He abruptly backhanded her across the face. "We are not...playing games here, Calleigh."

A tiny gasp had been the only outward sign of pain. She turned back to him and looked at him almost defiantly. She did know that about torture. She also knew that if they inflicted too much pain, she could go into shock or pass out, and they wouldn't be able to get anything from her. If that happened, or if they decided she really didn't know where the flash drive was, they would kill her. It would benefit her to pretend to be in even more pain than she was, to make them hold back, but her pride didn't allow it. "Not very patient, are you?"

"No. And it's good for you to learn that right now. Curtis, her hair."

The thug behind her grabbed a fistful of Calleigh's hair, twisted it, and yanked it back, then began twisting it tighter and tighter until Calleigh could feel blood pricking up along her scalp. "Really?" she asked more breathily than she meant to. "If this is your idea of torture, I got worse from the kids in grade school."

"So careless of women to wear their hair long, don't you think?" Ellsworth commented. "It must be such a hassle to take care of, and it just gives people one more thing they can hurt you with."

She stared at the ceiling.

"Fine." Ellsworth sighed. He took out his key chain and a lighter. Making sure he was in Calleigh's line of sight, he held one of his keys over the open flame. "We can find it with or without you. I'm sure we would get the answer out of you eventually, but we are a little pressed for time." Once the tip of the key glowed red, he brought it toward her.

She turned her face away from the heat, then felt the burn as he pressed the key against the delicate skin of her neck. She winced.

When she opened her eyes, Ellsworth was scowling. "You're so stubborn." He moved away from her and paced for a moment, then turned back. "How about this: a hundred thousand dollars, in cash, as soon as we get the flash drive. Make it five hundred thousand. Imagine what you could do with that kind of money."

For a second she considered pretending to agree, but they would make her take them to the flash drive. Even if that were possible they would just kill her anyway. "Not a chance."

"You are not making this very easy for yourself!" He pulled out his gun, and shoved it beneath her chin. "You're really willing to die for this? To throw away your life for a few computer files?"

Her eyes stared back at him, calmly. She had no doubt he was willing to pull the trigger, but she wasn't going to show any sign of fear. She probably wouldn't have been willing to die to make sure they didn't get those computer files, but telling them would put Eric in danger, and _that_ was something she would readily die for.

"No!"

Ellsworth spun around, aiming his gun at the door, where Eric had just rushed in.

Calleigh's eyes widened in dismay, and Eric's exclamation echoed through her soul. _NO!

* * *

_Eric had made his way to the AV lab. He'd kept out of sight behind the open door and listened to them threaten Calleigh as he tried to think of a way to stop them. He'd barely been able to restrain himself as he heard them hurt her. The gun had been too much.

He stared at Calleigh. Her face had flared into a look of terror and despair for a second, then faded back into a neutral blankness.

"Who are you?" Ellsworth demanded.

"His name's Eric," Calleigh answered for him. "He's a new tech in the print lab."

Eric flinched at her tone. He couldn't figure out what she was trying to do.

Ellsworth narrowed his eyes at him. "Why are you here?"

"Trying to be a hero, is my guess," said Calleigh.

"Did Caine send you for the flash drive?" Ellsworth questioned, taking a menacing step toward Eric.

Eric kept looking at Calleigh, trying to read her eyes. She shook her head so slightly that he thought he might have imagined it. "No. No one sent me. What flash drive?"

"Search him, Salazar."

At Ellsworth's command, the tall man by the door patted Eric down. As Calleigh watched, she didn't let her thoughts show on her face. They could have tortured her all they wanted without finding out where the flash drive was, because she didn't know. Eric knew. If they tortured him, and he told them, they would kill him as soon as they got what they wanted.

"No gun," Salazar said. "No flash drive."

"You came in here without even a gun? For a scientist, you're not very smart," Ellsworth remarked. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"He's here for me," Calleigh said. "He's got a crush on me. He hit on me the first time we worked together."

"I see. Well I can't fault his taste." Ellsworth turned his gun back toward Calleigh, but kept looking at Eric. "So, tell me where the flash drive is, or I'll kill her."

"Wait," Eric said. "I'll tell you, just...just let her go, please."

"Okay, that's better. Where is it?"

With Ellsworth watching him expectantly, Eric looked down, frowning. "It's..." He shook his head slightly. "Horatio's got it with him."

Ellsworth scoffed. "Right. Then why did he send _her_ back in here?"

"You think they'd even tell this kid where they put it?" Curtis asked. "I think he doesn't know anything. He's just saying he does to try to save her."

"I think you're right," Ellsworth said, pointing the gun at Eric again. "I should just kill you."

"No," Eric said sharply. "I do know where it is. I know exactly where it is. It's somewhere in the building, and I'll tell you after you let her go."

"I don't really believe you. I think you don't know. But she does." Ellsworth glanced back at Calleigh. "So here's the new deal: I'll shoot this guy unless you tell us where the flash drive is."

She glared at Ellsworth. She couldn't let them know Eric was the one who could lead them to the flash drive. "I won't tell you a thing, even if you do shoot him." It made her sick to utter those words, but if they knew how much she cared for Eric, they would torture him in an attempt to get her to talk.

"So let me get this straight: you don't care if we kill him?"

"He's only been working here for a few days. I barely even know him. If you kill him, though, it makes every single person involved in this theft guilty of felony murder and liable to get the death penalty, so go ahead an' shoot him. He knew the risks coming in here, or he should've."

The stricken expression on Eric's face cut her to the heart, but she didn't show it.

"Well..." Ellsworth returned to Calleigh and aimed the gun squarely at her head. "One of you is going to tell me where I can find the flash drive. Right now. Or I will pull this trigger."

A second passed that seemed to last for an eternity. "Don't. Please," Eric begged them. "Don't hurt her."

"You have no idea where the flash drive is," Ellsworth glanced back at him without moving the gun, "do you?"

Eric couldn't take his eyes off Calleigh. She looked scared--scared that he would tell them. "No," he said very quietly.

"Then you don't really have much leverage to demand anything, do you? Salazar, take him out."

Eric's eyes remained on Calleigh as Salazar lifted the barrel of an M16 to his head. Ellsworth and Curtis were watching him, too.

"There's no reason to kill him," Calleigh said. "He's just a lab tech. He's no threat to you. Let him go."

"Tell us where it is, and we will."

Calleigh glanced at Ellsworth. Her face was difficult to read, as usual, but there was something in her eyes that made Eric suspect she was planning something. He wished he could figure out what. With her arms handcuffed to the chair, her movements were limited, and with one gun pointed at her and another at him, any miscalculation could kill them both. Then her foot and knee shifted, and Eric realized with a shock what she was going to do: she was going to create a distraction for him by kicking Ellsworth. From her seated position, she wouldn't have very much force, but the pointed heels of her new shoes could cause significant pain.

As soon as she made her move, Ellsworth would pull the trigger. Calleigh was going to lose her life to give Eric a slight chance to escape.

"You know I won't do that," she said, and the muscles of her leg flexed.

"No!" Eric's arm twisted up, knocking the barrel of Salazar's gun away just as a deafening shot rang through the room. Ellsworth's handgun swung toward Eric just as Calleigh's heel came up and connected with his gut. The force of her kick pushed the chair back into Curtis, who grunted just as Calleigh screamed at the searing pain in her arms. Eric ripped the gun away from Salazar and shot Ellsworth. Curtis knocked the chair over as he pulled out his gun. Eric aimed and fired. A wild spray of gunfire burst from Curtis's rifle for a second before he fell to the ground. Salazar's body slammed into Eric, tackling him to the floor. He grabbed the gun. They struggled for it for a moment before Eric let go of the gun and punched Salazar in the face as hard as he could, snapping his head back.

Eric grabbed the gun and scrambled to his feet, panting. Salazar wasn't moving, but he couldn't tell if he was dead or unconscious.

"Not bad for a lab tech, huh?" Eric joked between ragged breaths.

There was no response.

He looked toward Calleigh. She was lying on the ground, still awkwardly attached to the chair. Her face was mostly concealed behind a curtain of her long blond hair.

"Calleigh?" He ran to her, knelt over her and brushed her hair back. Her eyes were closed, her face nearly white. He lifted her head with a hand on her neck. The grip of panic eased when he felt her pulse. "Cal, I'm gonna get you out of here." He moved around to look at her hands. Her wrists were bleeding where the handcuffs dug into them. He went to Ellsworth to search for the keys.

That was the moment the lights went out. Not just the main lights, but the emergency lights as well.

"Dammit!" he whispered. His hands continued patting over the corpse, but he didn't find the keys until his eyes adjusted to the meager evening light coming through the rain-drenched window.

He returned to Calleigh and unlocked the handcuffs. He lifted her into his arms, cradling her head against his neck. He could feel her shallow, pained breathing. He didn't know why the lights were off, didn't know whether the other gang members had heard the shooting and were on their way to find out what happened, and he didn't know how hurt Calleigh was. He could try to carry her out, but that might exacerbate her injuries if she had broken bones or internal bleeding. But he couldn't leave her there. "No, no, no," he whimpered. "Calleigh. Please wake up. Cal."

"Eric?" Her voice was small. He barely heard it.

"Calleigh. Thank God. I thought..." He couldn't finish.

"I hurt...so much," she said, the fear and pain in her whisper palpable. "And I can't see anything."

"The lights went out."

"Ellsworth?"

"He's dead," Eric answered. "I shot him. So are the other two."

"What about the...Eric, you have to get out of here. You have to get the flash drive, and get out of here."

"Not without you. Can you move?"

Several seconds passed. "I don't know. I think I can walk."

With his arms still around her, he stood up. He tried to take her arm, but her sharp gasp of pain made him pause.

"I'm fine," she lied "I'll be fine. Just go. I'll meet you outside."

"No way. I'm going with you. I hid the flash drive. We can come back for it later."

"Ellsworth told Horatio they rigged bombs around the building," Calleigh explained. "You need to get the flash drive out. Like I told you to before."

"Did you know about the bombs before coming in after me?" Eric took her silence as an admission, but now wasn't the time to talk about it. "Cal, you're shaking. I think you're in shock. I'm not leaving you for that damn flash drive."

"Then I'll go with you, but we need to get it." She started walking toward the door to prove she could.

He sprinted after her. "Okay. I'll get it, but you need to get out of here. You need medical attention."

"Deal," she agreed. "Be careful."

"You too."

Eric made his way through the dark halls. Once he entered the lightless restroom, he patted his hands along the wall until he found the soap dispenser where he'd hidden the flash drive. He retrieved it and stuck it in a pocket, then headed for an exit.

He heard a sporadic exchange of gunfire from somewhere in the building and froze. Was that Calleigh? Had the surviving gangsters found her? If she was dead, he would never forgive himself for splitting up.

* * *

Horatio waited tensely in the parking lot while the SWAT team and the bomb squad continued searching the darkened building with their night-vision goggles, apprehending or, if necessary, dispatching every gang member they came across. Then he saw someone familiar emerge from the building. He hurried toward him.

"Eric," he said, so relieved to see him that he decided to postpone reprimanding him for putting himself in danger.

"Is Calleigh here? Where's Calleigh?"

"She's with the paramedics right now. I want you to get checked out, too, and then I want a report on what happened in there."

He nodded. "I have the flash drive." He handed Horatio the evidence bag.

"Good. But it wasn't worth risking your life."

Eric laughed, a pained, almost maniacal sound. "I wish someone had told Ellsworth and his gang that."

Horatio nodded. "The ambulance is down there," he said, pointing. "Get yourself taken care of. We'll deal with everything else later."

'Everything else' meaning the reports, the IAB, the damage to the lab, possibly even losing the job he just got back, Eric considered as he made his way toward the ambulance.

But none of that seemed very important right now.

Calleigh broke away from the paramedics when she spotted Eric. Her left pinkie finger was taped to her ring finger, both of her arms were in slings, and there was a bandage on her neck, but she looked better than she had back in the AV lab. She'd been given pain relievers, which were starting to take effect. She paused a few feet from him. "Eric..." Her eyes closed and she shook her head. "I'm so sorry. About all of this. About what I said back there..."

He wrapped his arms around her. "Shh. Don't worry about it."

"You know I didn't mean any of that, right?"

"I know. You were amazing, Calleigh. If it weren't for you, we both would've died in there."

"So you forgive me?"

"I'm just so glad you're okay. There's just one thing." He took a step back so he could look at her.

"Anything," she said.

"Never ask me to do that again. Don't ask me to live without you."

She laughed and nodded, speechless.

A paramedic standing behind them cleared her throat. "Excuse me, Miss Duquesne? We really need to get you to a hospital to get that arm x-rayed. Mr. Delko? Could you step over here please?"

"I'll see you at the hospital?" Calleigh asked.

"Of course." He gently hugged her one more time before letting the paramedics separate them.

Eric watched the ambulance drive away as one of the paramedics looked him over. "Most of this blood isn't mine," he said.

The paramedic raised an eyebrow, and kept working.

He looked back toward the lab, where the last of the attackers were being dragged to waiting police cars. "This has been one hell of a second day back at work. You know, it's things like this that made me decide to quit. And that keep me coming back."

The End


End file.
